COME A LITTLE CLOSER
by TheLastPrototype
Summary: Once upon a time, Katara had a mission. Love the Avatar. Kill the Fire Lord. Now she can't really remember how the lines got so blurry. The lines between good and evil, right and wrong. Between hatred... and love. And that's not even all there is, is it? The truth is that Katara's choice was never just between Zuko and Aang. The players have changed... and so has the game.
1. Prologue

My first ATLA fic! I'm _very_ excited.

Also, this isn't necessarily a Zutara fic. It's a very complex story. You really can't say that it's just about the two of them. So yeah.

But I also want to try something totally new. I read a fic by an extremely talented writer once, and she did this, so I thought I'd try it, too: I'm going to give you a soundtrack to the story, to achieve something like total immersion into this fictional world. If you don't want to, you do not, of course, have to listen to the music while you read, but I hope that you do. And if you end up hating it, just let me know, because that would be a shame.

Please enjoy, and R&R if you like, just to give me some encouragement, if you liked it. Or if you didn't. Criticism is appreciated.

So I think that's it.

* * *

The soundtrack for this chapter is:

Demi Lovato - Skyscraper

Survivor - Eye of the Tiger

I suggest that you have them waiting, because when I say play, it's go time. Enjoy!

* * *

Skyscraper – Play!

* * *

He has her in shackles. She is boiling with rage.

The guards are not supposed to speak to her – Captain's orders. But who's going to tell him? They taunt her, call her names, but that's okay. She has heard it all before. The worst thing is when they bring the water. She still feels it calling to her, the beautiful song of her people, the song that was inside of her for so long. Without it, she feels so lost.

How could he do this to her?

She is almost empty. But not entirely so. The fire that comes with her fury is a good enough placeholder for the water right now.

They throw the water into her cell sometimes, and it splashes around her feet in little puddles. She longs to soak it all up. She would try to get at it with her hands, if they weren't held over her head. Not that it would help, anyway. That water would do nothing for her. She knows it with as much certainty as she knows that he will come. He cannot resist, cannot resist her. If he could, he wouldn't have had to lock her up in the first place, would he? She chuckles bitterly. While she waits for him, she sometimes remembers what Gran-Gran had told her about Fire Lords when she was a little girl in the Southern Water Tribe.

"They are living Gods to their people, Katara, and they behave like it, too. That is both their greatest strength and their greatest weakness." She would bring her mouth very close to her granddaughter's ear. "I'm going to tell you a secret. Fire Lords are human, too. And they are lonely. I don't know whether there has ever been a Fire Lord that wasn't lonely. So – here's what you need to know, what every person should know: you do not kill a Fire Lord with hatred. Do you know how you kill one?" Katara would look up at her, confused, and shake her head, even though she had heard the answer many times. And her grandmother would smile sadly, and tell her.

* * *

Stop Music.

Eye of the Tiger – Play!

* * *

His footsteps echo through the prison; the price to pay for iron soles. The guards shy away from him as he approaches. The price to pay for an iron soul. But the thing about iron is that it melts, isn't it? It surprised him when he first felt it. It is still difficult to feel today. Especially today.

She's sleeping as he reaches her cell, head lolling to one side. But he doesn't even have to say her name to wake her up. He wouldn't have, in any case. It pleases him more to watch her sleep. Hearing her voice is so much more painful. But it's as if his presence sends a jolt of electricity through her. With a shiver, she opens her eyes. He turns away before she can see his face, and beckons to the nearest guard. The man almost tip-toes towards him. His eyes betray an animalistic kind of terror.

"Unbind her." He doesn't have to ask twice. Of course not. No one had ever made him ask twice for anything, until a year ago.

As the guard enters the cell and approaches the prisoner, the Fire Lord's voice rings out from behind him. "Be careful," he says, staring into her deceitfully tired blue eyes. "She bites." The guard's hands quiver as he unlocks the shackles that bind her hands and feet. Although he knows that it's impossible for her to have the strength required to attack the man, the Fire Lord feels a strange tingle of anticipation in his fingertips. But he is right. She can barely move, or won't. The guard exits the cell unharmed. His exhalation is almost disappointed.

"Leave us," he says, without looking at the men. They are not worth looking at, not when he has her to watch instead. He leans his forehead against the bars and closes his eyes. It's a while before he hears her voice, calling out to him. He barely recognizes it, so delightfully thin and dry.

"Are you enjoying this?" It's a rhetorical question, but he answers it anyway.

"Yes," he hums, glaring at her huddled form on the floor in the corner of the cell farthest from him. "But don't do it just to please me. I know you, Katara. You're not this weak. You are far from your lowest point." In a flowing movement that reminds him of the water that was always in her touch, her caress, she flies toward him and grips the cell bars, revealing bruised knuckles. He lets his fingertips fly gently over them as she closes her eyes and releases a moan of ecstasy.

He will not lie. He is addicted. Addicted to her.

But then she opens her eyes to stare him down, daggers in her gaze.  
"I that what you want?" she asks, pressing herself against the bars on her side as he does the same on his. Their lips are almost touching, almost. "To bring me to the point of no return?"

He smiles against her mouth.

"Do you think I could?"

She reaches two fingers through the gap between the bars and strokes his face lightly, as fleetingly as a soft breeze. Her dry, cracked lips, smudged forehead and strands of greasy hair appeal to him more than the angular cheekbones and creamy, clear skin of any woman in the fire nation.

"I once thought you could do anything you wanted to," she whispers. He finds it hard to speak.

"And now?" he breathes hoarsely.

She turns and takes a few steps away from the bars, until she is half-concealed by shadows. He feels her absence like a cold wind, strong enough to kill a small, vulnerable flame.

"Now you're not even strong enough to let me out, to speak to me without prison bars between us."

He leans his head to one side and lets his eyes graze the slope of her back.

"Do you think me weak?" he asks. Wants to ask. Does not dare to ask.

"You know that he will come, don't you?" she says, spinning around to face him. Fierce hope blazes inside her eyes. He feels a trickle of cold sweat run down his back.

"To rescue you? Maybe," he answers slowly. "But once he finds out what you have done, how you have played him for a fool, you will be lost."

"What makes you think I played him for a fool?" she asks, quivering with fury.

"What are you saying? That you were in love with both of us? That you played _me_ for a fool instead? Please, Katara. Please." He meant it to sound sarcastic, but he realizes that he really is pleading with her. She couldn't have been pretending all that time. She couldn't have.

She sinks to her knees; the sudden rush of energy is over, leaving only her dried out, famished, vulnerable shell.

"Love," she whispers, so quietly that he barely hears her. "Love is a fool's game, though, isn't it? We are all fools, the two, three, four, millions of us."

He has never heard her speak this way.

It scares him half to death.

She loops her arms around her knees and rocks back and forth on the floor. He cannot pull his eyes away, and finally, she raises her head to meet them.

"Do you know how to kill a Fire Lord?" she asks. He feels tears rolling down his face. He has not cried in years. It frightens him.

He shakes his head. He wants to know. He has forgotten.

* * *

Stop Music

* * *

"With love."

* * *

I very much hope that this was enjoyable for you. And even if you didn't like the music this time, that really doesn't say anything about the soundtrack in general, because my taste in music is always changing. Who knows, you might like it next chapter. I'm just saying.

Feel free to comment on any part of the chapter – my writing, the plot (as far as that can be discerned from my first few words), anything. I want to hear your opinions. Believe it or not, they are very important to me!

Love,

Type

P.S. Let me just say that this was just the prologue, so of course it's going to be shorter that the actual chapters. I usually write about 3000 words per chapter, but this story is very different from everything else I've written, so yeah. I'll surprise myself as much as you.


	2. The Blue

I've stopped with the soundtrack. I'm sorry if you liked it, but I just didn't think it was the right thing for this particular story…

Again – not strictly Zutara, who knows what will happen? Even _I_ have no idea where this is going.

Please R&R, leave some feedback, I would be much obliged :D

* * *

K.

Back at the South Pole, I had a few admirers, sure, and it's not like I've never kissed anyone before, but with Aang, it's totally different. With other guys I've liked, I'd never know what to talk about and there would just be loads of awkward pauses and it was just really uncomfortable. But with Aang… I don't know, I guess we were just friends for so long and we've experienced so much together. We talk about the world and politics and the Air Nomads and Sokka and GranGran and bending and just everything there is to talk about. I don't think I'll ever run out of things to talk to him about. With us, things just… flow. It's easy.

And it's not like we just talk all the time. Obviously. I like to think that we're like one of those artist couples – you know, inspiring each other? He definitely motivates me – we train together, and then make out, and then talk about ways to reunify the Nations, then maybe make out some more. I can imagine living like this forever, which I know is crazy, but that's how it is.

I think I might be in love with him.

* * *

Z.

Sometimes I think back to the time when I was unsure about my destiny and want to punch my old self in the face. Did I actually think that sitting idly by while my father committed crimes against humanity was in any way acceptable? The hold he had on me was incredibly powerful, and I am ashamed of it. Which is strange, because no one has ever made me feel bad about it at all – everyone seems to tiptoe around the subject. Which is good, I guess, because I don't really feel comfortable talking about it to any of my friends, anyway. I even know exactly what they would say. Sokka would probably feel just as awkward as I would and mumble something about having to practice his sword-fighting; Toph wouldn't take it seriously and would give me a nickname that's even more embarrassing than Twinkletoes; Suki would get all angry at my father and start off on a rant; Tai Lee would give me a big hug and feel sorry for me; Aang would talk about looking into the future instead of letting past mistakes hold me back; even Mai would tell me to stop thinking about myself now that I'm the ruler of an entire Nation. And Katara… I don't know. I just can't talk to them about it. Maybe I could talk to Uncle Iroh, if he were here. But he's off somewhere rescuing refugees and whatnot, so it would be selfish to call him back only to help me through this. In the end, I suppose the only person I could talk to about my father is Azula. But she's crazy, so that's not happening.

Then again, maybe my guilt is only an exaggerated worry, something to distract me from the much bigger question that has been consuming my thoughts ever since our victory on the day of Sozin's Comet, and maybe even long before that. I do not dare to pose it out loud. Or do I?

Where is my mother?

* * *

K.

As much as I may want to, I cannot remain in my happy bubble and be completely oblivious to the negative energy around me, especially when it's source is all too clear. Zuko. Something is wrong, and though Aang may be content in ignoring it, it is seriously getting on my nerves. He barely contributes to our discussions any more, and we haven't mentioned his idea at all this week. Things are so great – why is he so intent on going back to the brooding, secretive person he used to be?

I decide to speak to Aang before I do anything rash.

"Have you noticed anything about Zuko?" I ask him as nonchalantly as possible during our next bending practice. He pauses the wall of water that is just about to collapse over me and lets his hands hover in the air as he peers around the wave at me.

"Like what?" he inquires. Grinning, I use his lapse of focus to drive the water pack in his direction.

"He's in a terrible mood," I say between gritted teeth as the struggle for control over the water becomes a simple test of strength. Finally, Aang steps back and sends the water flying in all directions with a swiveling hand motion, and I breathe out a sigh of relief.

"Zuko's _always_ in a terrible mood," he laughs and lets a small flame dance across his palm. "He's always looked as if he has to carry the problems of the whole world on his shoulders. The only difference now is that he actually does." With that, he lets the flame crackle and grow, before giving me a weird look and throwing it in my direction. I dart the blow easily and douse the fire with a minimal amount of water, only to realize that this is exactly what he wants. Too late, I jump into the air – a rising pillar of earth slams into my back and has me flying towards Aang.

"Yes but don't you think we should make sure that nothing is actually wrong?" I shout, growing increasingly frustrated, and spin around in the air, regaining control of my body and managing to use Aang's chest as a sort of stepping stone that only propels me further upwards. Immediately, a spiral of water rises and envelopes me, lending me support in the air. Aang follows quickly, hanging onto his staff and blindly throwing icicles in my direction.

"It's Zuko!" he yells over the roaring of the water. "Something is always wrong!" With a sudden movement of his right hand, left still clinging to the staff, he takes control of the spiral and brings it down towards the ground, hard. My back hits the floor with a hollow thump, making me yelp in pain as Aang's shadow passes over me. "Why are you so concerned about this, anyway? Has he said anything to you?"

I wince as I roll over – my whole body is sore – and get up onto my knees and then my feet.

"No, of course not. I was just worried."

Aang grins and loops his arms around my waist. "

"You worry too much," he tells me. I nod, unable to smile. My waist aches where he holds it, although his touch is soft as snowflake-feathers. Oblivious to my less than enthusiastic expression, Aang turns away and starts towards the palace, pausing to stare at me over one shoulder.

"Are you coming?" he asks, confused.

"I think I'll keep bending for a while. To make sure you don't beat me next time." I send him a lopsided grin.

"Right," he says, and resumes walking. When he has almost reached the palace, he calls out again, without turning back.

"Good practice today!"

* * *

A.

Things with Katara are great. Amazing. On fire. I don't know. I never thought I could care about someone this much, and she just makes me so happy.

I'm happy a lot these days. All the pressure I had before I took Ozai's bending to be decisive and eventually violent is gone, and maybe that's just because things have become a lot more peaceful. The transition into Zuko's reign has been even better than we expected – it's almost like the people of the Fire Nation were just waiting for a new leader, and they have embraced the new way of life. Unfortunately, I have not yet found the time to travel to the Earth Kingdom, where my help seems to be needed; there have been a few riots from the remaining population – the land destroyed during Sozin's Comet can not be restored, and neither can the lives lost in the attack. Luckily, many people were saved, and we received fantastic news from Iroh a few days ago – some Fire Nation vessels attempted to make port, and upon closer inspection it became clear that they were carrying the last prisoners from the coal extraction sites. After the officials had been arrested, the prisoners were treated and should soon be able to return to the Earth Kingdom.

Another reason I'm happy is because the whole team has adopted a very hands-on mindset when it comes to improving international peace. While I was, of course, sad to see my friends go, I am relieved to know that there are representatives of peace in all parts of the world. Toph and Mai have travelled to the Earth Kingdom to present a united Earth-Fire front, and Suki and Tai Lee are doing a good job of making a sort of peace-keeping organization out of the Kyoshi Warriors. After a teary goodbye to Katara, even Sokka agreed to travel to the North and South Poles to convince the tribes of the trustworthiness of the new Firelord.

The only people that remain in the Fire Nation with me are Katara and Zuko, but I have found this to be a fortunate constellation. When the whole gang is together, it is difficult to have a discussion without things getting out of hand – there are just too many opinions. The three of us talk every day and try to come up with new ways to unite all the benders and none-benders of the world. In the beginning, it was a bit of a mess – when it comes to making political decisions, you have to become a adult for a while, and even I know I'm not too good at that. But in the last few weeks, we seem to have matured quite a lot, and our discussions are organized and precise. An idea that gets thrown around more and more often during these discussions is a term Zuko came up with – a United Republic of Nations.

* * *

Z.

It's pretty clear from the beginning that if we're going to transform the Fire Nation colonies in the Earth Kingdom into a new Republic, Aang and I both have to be there to oversee its early stages of development. We still don't know what that's going to look like, exactly, but we definitely know we need to be there.

"Central City," Katara says one day, her eyes lighting up. "You need a capital, that's the most important thing. Other settlements will follow. We go to the Fire Nation colonies and recruit some people, and then we start building the capital."

"A place where benders and non-benders from all nations can live together in peace and harmony," Aang muses. I frown.

"Am I the only one who thinks Central City is a stupid name?" I ask. Katara swats at me with one hand and tells me to stop being such a downer.

"And how exactly are you planning on 'building a city' anyway?" She hasn't thought this through, and I'm not going to let her get away with some half-assed plan. "Have you even thought about that, Katara?"

I can see in her eyes that she hasn't, but her embarrassment quickly fades into anger. Katara stares at Aang.

"Aren't you going to say anything?!" she demands. Aang squirms.

"Well," he mumbles, "maybe Zuko's a little bit right? We can't just build a city without a plan-"

"Oh, well, fine then," Katara says in an uncomfortably neutral voice, "if you two are so content with sitting here and making plans all day without really doing anything to actively make the world better, maybe I'll just leave you to it." She trips over her dress during her graceful exit, and glares back at us like we somehow caused her to fall.

"Katara-" Aang starts as she runs out of the room, then stops and sighs. "She's even more of a hothead than you," he says.

He might be right. Maybe she's more like me than I thought.

* * *

K.

They're both stupid and passive and lazy and stupid, stupid, stupid. Jerks.

I lie on my bed and look up at the ceiling, which has an intricately carved, beautifully colored dragon on it. The palace has so many impressive rooms, and right now, a grand three of them are inhabited. Not even Zuko's generals stay here. The only place that's actually lively is the servants quarters.

I miss… people. Maybe that's why I was so excited about the idea of building a capital for the United Republic. But that still doesn't mean it's not a viable course of action! They're idiots for not seeing it. It's a good idea. A great idea! They're stupid. Especially Zuko; his attitude is pulling all three of us down. Maybe he should just stay here, and Aang and I can go to Central without him. Jerk.

"Katara?" I hear a calm, familiar voice from the shadows where my door is. I sit up grin.

"Mai!" I exclaim. I get up and she comes over to hug me.

"They told me not to bother you because you were in a bad mood, but I figured they were just being idiots," she says, smiling a closed-lipped smile, which is a lot for Mai.

"They _are_ idiots," I grumble, crossing my arms in front of my chest. She chuckles.

"Well, if you ask me, you're all acting like kids."

"What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were in the Earth Kingdom with Toph," I decide to change the topic.

"Zuko sent me a letter telling me about his idea and asking me to stay at the Palace while he goes to the Fire Nation Colonies." I nod; it makes sense.

"Has he told you when he's leaving?" I ask, because I sort of stormed out before we could get to that.

"Next week."

I decide right then to ask Mai about Zuko. She's a lot more perceptive than she seems, and if anyone has picked up on what's bothering him, it's her.

"I don't know," she says, shaking her head, "I haven't seen him in so long. It's difficult to tell. But maybe taking his mind off his problems and actually getting some work done in the colonies will help?" I nod tersely. I had expected a more satisfying response.

A thought occurs to me suddenly.

"Wait. Is Toph still in the Earth Kingdom, or-"

"Hey there, Sugarqueen!" Toph emerges from just outside my room and grins at me. The first thing that strikes me is how much she's grown. Both Aang and Toph are now as tall as me. It's slightly disconcerting, especially in her case. I think that the fact that I was always taller than she was earned at least a little respect – now, as I stand up to hug her, our eyes are on the same level.

After she releases me from her iron-like embrace, Toph sighs dramatically.

"You have no idea how long I've been standing there waiting to surprise you. I'm disappointed in you, Katara; I thought you'd mention me earlier." Her voice is half-sarcastic, half-serious. Clearly, she hasn't changed a lot in the last few weeks, despite her growth spurt. Oh well. I suppose if I could handle her before, I can do it now.

Mai gets up to leave, and I shoot her a questioning look.

"I'm going to talk to Zuko. If you say he's being more negative than usual, I believe you. Maybe it'll help if I just ask him outright." Toph shakes her head.

"The only cure for being an ass is a punch in the face. Or some stones. You know. To each her own," she says, deadpan.

"Right," Mai concedes, chuckling. "Well, if confronting him verbally to him doesn't help, there's always that. I'll keep it in mind, okay?" Toph smirks, satisfied.

Naturally, Toph is as lazy and disrespectful as always. I resolve that the only way to earn her respect is by beating her in a fight, fair and square. When I ask her to train with me, she raises an eyebrow.

"Not afraid you might break a nail, Sugarqueen?"

"Nope," I retort, boiling inside.

"Great," she says, jumping up from her position on my bed, "let's go!"

Now that it's actually happening, I'm nervous. There's been tension between Toph and I ever since she joined the group – she's my friend, and I love her, of course, but I also know that in order to make her respect you, you have to stand up to her. We've had our moments, and sometimes I get a glimpse of the lonely person inside her tough shell, but she always ends up going back to treating me like a weak girly-girl, and I'm done. If she thinks this will be easy, she's dead wrong.

When we arrive at the training field, Toph fixates me one more time.

"You sure you want to do this, Katara?" she asks.

"Of course," I say, and smile tightly, "it's just training, right?" She shrugs and I get into my fighting stance, expecting her to do the same; then I remember that this _is_ Toph's fighting stance – she just stands there, hands by her sides, waiting for me to make a move. So I do.

As I raise a wave of water behind me, Toph seems to feel the growing pressure on the ground, and immediately jams a pole of earth into my side. Although I don't fall, I almost lose my balance.

I attempt a hasty retaliation on ice, and although she can no longer 'see' me, Toph just raises a wall of compact earth in front of her. Determined not to let her brute force beat me this time, I try to find a way around the wall – then remember that, sometimes, the only way out is through. I bring the largest possible forces of water I can manage crashing down upon her protective cocoon, which is smashed into pieces immediately. Toph stands facing me, soaked and breathing heavily. She leans here head to one side and says, "Wow."

I turn away.

"I'm done for today," I say. I have never held my head higher. I'm on a roll, and I can do anything.

Time to confront Zuko.

* * *

Z.

I look up as Mai enters my chambers. The corners of her mouth are raised just slightly. I turn back to my scrolls.

"This stuff is so complicated," I sigh. She comes up behind me, wraps her arms around my waist and rests her chin on my shoulder.

"So take a break," she breathes in my ear. "You can afford to take _one_ break." I turn my chair to face her, brow furrowed. She's not usually the one to make the first move – it's mostly like I have to coax the romance out of her.

"I missed you," she whispers, and moves to straddle me on the chair. I raise my eyebrows in surprise, more at my own reluctance than her willingness.

"Can we-" I run a hand through my hair, "not do this _right_ now?"

She brings her face very close to mine, our lips almost meeting. I stare into her eyes, which are amber like mine, and burning like the heat of a million flames. "Fine," she hisses, and gets up. I know how much rejection hurts, and I feel bad. It's not her fault something's wrong with me…

I take both her hands in mine and say, "I've missed you, too. I'd rather just sleep with you than _sleep _with you. If that's all right." Something in her expression falters, and she sighs.

"Whatever," she mumbles and heads for the bed. With a last glance at my scrolls, I stand up and follow her. As we lie down, we seem to move into a comfortably entwined position almost instinctively, me with my head buried in the place between her neck and chest, arms around her small waist, while she embraces my shoulders, body curved around me. My eyes lift and I catch a glimpse of blue in the doorway, but it's gone so fast I begin to think I've imagined it.

"I love you," Mai whispers into my hair, and I close my eyes, trying to breathe as shallowly as possible. Maybe I misheard her.

There's something about the blue.

* * *

A lot of potential here - I'm proud of myself. Haven't been able to update in forever, and I almost gave up on this story because I wasn't sure it was good enough. Let me know what you think.

Love, Type


	3. The Lie

**Your eyes may be whole  
****But the story I'm told  
****Is your heart is as black as night  
**

**Your hands may be strong  
****But the feeling's all wrong:  
****Your heart is as black as night  
** - _Melody Gardot, "Your Heart Is As Black As Night"  
_(I suggest you listen to this song while reading. They go together.)

* * *

Her hands are on his shoulders, stroking slow circles. His head is bowed forward in pleasant surrender. She lets her fingers run up and down his back, varying pressure to hear him moan slightly.

"Is that nice?"

"That's nice," he whispers, and turns around, entrapping her within the cage of his arms, hands resting on the silk covers. Her breath is shallow, and with every intake of air, their chests almost touch. He lowers his lips over hers, but stops a millimeter from her skin. She closes her eyes and turns her head away, but her hands reach up to grip his waist. Smirking, he lets his mouth tease the dark skin on her neck as she pulls him down desperately. The muscles on his lower back are tense, and she massages them lightly as the distance between their bodies decreases.

"Come on," she moans silently. His eyes narrow.

"No," he says, his face tight. She opens her blue, blue eyes and he has to take care not to drown in them, just as his amber orbs threaten to burn her. "It's not enough," he frowns. She seems close to tears.

"Am I not enough?" Her eyes and hands and lips plead with him, and she pulls him closer, desperate for passion, as his body stiffens.

"Let go," she whispers, her mouth close to his ear. His face is pressed into her hair; it smells of sand and seawater. "Just let go. Trust me."

He can't. He hasn't in years. But he does care for her, so he will try. He tightens his grip on her hips and presses himself close to her. That's when he starts feeling the heat. The flames lick at the soles of his feet, lightly scalding his rough skin. He can tell that she feels them too, by the way she gasps, half in pain and half in pleasure. His grin is victorious and hungry and delicious.

The flames engulf her, and she throws her head back, barely holding back screams. It's the most amazing thing she's ever felt. Their moans break the stillness of the black, black night, but the pleasure is over too soon.

As the flames begin to recede, he pulls back, almost as if he is ashamed of how quickly it ended. She stares at him, hard, and decides to try something new to both of them. She sits up and pushes him into a sitting position with her. They sit entwined within each other, and she begins to run her fingers along his arms, at first tentatively, then with more sureness. He does not take his eyes off her face, and she is almost afraid to return his gaze, instead concentrating on the water gathering around her fingertips, water that the crisp night air has given to her. With a swirling motion of her hands, she allows the water to envelop both of them. Then she presses her lips against his, and he follows her back into their lying position.

They do not _sleep_ together. She leaves when they are done, covered in silk sheets, with wet strands of hair plastered to her forehead. His eyes bore into her back as she stands in the doorway.

"Was that your first…?"

"Of course," she lies.

* * *

BOOM.

Review.

Love, Type


End file.
